


exactly where you like me

by thatworldinverted



Series: let's talk about sex [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cock Rings, Daddy Kink, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dom Derek, Dom/sub, Facials, Library Sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Sex, Punishment, Rimming, Sub Stiles, Top Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatworldinverted/pseuds/thatworldinverted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perched on the table with his pants tugged down and his thighs open, books scattered on either side, Stiles looks like every fantasy Derek spent years repressing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	exactly where you like me

With Stiles home for the summer, the two of them have fallen into a routine. The pack makes jokes, of course - _old married couple_ , _domesticated_ \- but Derek can admit that he likes it. Likes Stiles being around all the time, the way the apartment smells like both of them, the space so much more filled than normal. 

Tuesday night is library night. 

Stiles likes to curl up with the library’s unadvertised, back-room collection of supernatural texts, but Derek prefers the stacks. There’s something soothing about walking up and down the aisles, head tilted to read familiar titles. In the quiet, he tunes out the other patrons, half-listens to the tap of Stiles’ pencil against the tabletop, the soft beat of his heart. 

A pulse slowly kicking into an intimately familiar tempo. Derek’s head whips towards the - hopefully - closed door of Stiles’ favorite study room. 

He _knows_ Stiles is doing it on purpose, that Stiles knows there’s no way Derek could ignore the sound, and, fuck, the scent of what he’s doing. _That goddamn tease_. 

When he pulls the door open a crack and slips inside, that crooked smirk is all the confirmation Derek needs, breath punching out of him as he takes in the sight. Perched on the table with his pants tugged down and his thighs open, books scattered on either side, Stiles looks like every fantasy Derek spent years repressing. 

One hand moves lazily along his dick; Derek can’t pull his eyes away as the head pushes up through Stiles’ fingers. 

“Hey, baby.”

“Stiles. We are _in the library_.”

“You don’t need to whisper, dude, they can’t hear you in here.” 

Derek’s eyebrows quirk. “Seriously, Stiles? This room isn’t soundproofed.” 

“These walls are solid brick! I could scream bloody murder and no one would hear it.”

“Planning on doing a lot of screaming, are you?” 

Stiles’ smirk gets wider, blowing into a grin. “Not gonna lie, the idea occurred to me.” 

No amount of sarcasm could hide the way Derek’s mouth is watering. Fuck, how did he end up with this gorgeous, filthy boy? Two steps and they’re pressed together, those long fingers brushing against the bulge in Derek’s pants as Stiles works his own dick, Derek yanking down his zipper. 

It’s frantic after that, teeth and tongues and spit-damp palms. But it’s good, unbelievably fucking good, his teeth clamped around the tendon in Stiles’ neck as their hands tangle around their cocks, Stiles so close that he’s sobbing into Derek’s shirt. 

“Come on, baby, come for me, let me see how pretty you are when you come all over yourself like Daddy’s good little boy, do it Stiles, come on, now, now, whose are you, baby, you’re mine and you’re going to come just for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yours,” and Stiles is coming, hard, _loud_ , on a scream, “Oh, oh, fucking hell, Daddy, yes,” the hot spill of his come slicking Derek’s strokes. His own panting breaths are the only thing Derek can hear as he chases his orgasm, so close, fuck, fuck, and -

And the door’s swinging open, another heartbeat only noticeable when it’s already too late. 

“Hey, everything okay in-”

“Heeeey, George, how’s it going?” Stiles yanks his hands out of Derek’s pants to give the man a jerky, two-armed wave hello. He probably didn’t _mean_ to send Derek’s jeans and underwear straight to the floor, Derek hopes, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s now bare-assed naked in front of evening security. 

And it would have to be George; library guards should be doddering old men, but not George, no. George is twenty-seven, blond, and studying to take the deputy’s entrance exam. The way he looks at Stiles makes Derek want to snap his teeth on a _good_ day. 

“Stiles. Derek.”

“Could you maybe give us a second, George,” Derek says, clenching his jaw to keep from snarling. 

Apologies are on the tip of Stiles’ tongue before the door even clicks closed. He hops down from the table, tripping over his own jeans to try and fumble Derek’s back into place.

“Ha, I am so sorry, dude, how hot-but-awkward was that, right? Hotward? Hawkward? Haaawkward. At least it wasn’t the Sheriff, right? Not like the last time, I don’t think my dad’s recovered from that. I don’t know about George, though, I think he was checking you out. He was _definitely_ looking at something, and it better not have been your dick, cause that dick belongs to the Stiles, and Stiles does not share, not even with big, ripped blonds who could probably kick my ass. You wouldn’t let him kick my ass, though, would you? Or maybe you would. Maybe you’d want us to fight for your honor. Like gladiators! I totally would, baby, you know I’d take one for Team Derek. I am the _president_ of Team Derek, I could-”

Finally Derek slaps his hand over the mouth going a mile a minute. 

“This is what we’re going to do. We’re both going to get our pants back on, get escorted from yet _another_ public building, and then we’re going to go home. I don’t want to hear you speak until then, do you understand?”

It’s a long, silent walk out of the building. Security George invites them politely to find another library, Stiles nodding his understanding with Derek’s palm planted firmly in the small of his back. 

They barely make it to the car before Stiles starts to speak, Derek holding up a finger to forestall it.

“If you open your mouth again without permission tonight, I’m doubling the length of your punishment.” 

Honestly, Derek’s not that mad about it. Like Stiles said, it’s not the first time they’ve gotten caught, and it probably won’t be the last. He knows his boy, and if Stiles didn’t want to get punished, he’d be three quarters of the way through a rant about unfair treatment by now. Stiles wants this.

They both do. 

Doesn’t mean Stiles isn’t going to fight it, though.

“But-”

“Seriously, Stiles?”

Flushed, fingers digging into his thighs, Stiles’ mouth shuts with a snap. The silence speaks volumes in affronted petulance, but he manages to stay quiet the rest of the car ride. 

“When we get to the apartment, you’re going to go into the bedroom and get undressed. I want you to kneel on the bed and wait for me until I’m ready to deal with you.” 

Stiles levels a flat glare in Derek’s direction, but it doesn't bear much weight, considering he can smell Stiles’ cock getting wet again. 

“Nod if you understand me, Stiles.” 

He wants to bite the blush creeping down Stiles’ neck. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter how fast he scurries up the stairs, Derek’s still going to make him wait. The part of him that didn’t get to come wants to disregard his own rules and take Stiles right there against the front door. 

Derek doesn’t do any of it, though. He watches the sway of Stiles’ hips up the stairs, follows him into the apartment, pours a glass of water and settles on the couch while he listens to the soft _thump_ of discarded clothing. 

Only when Stiles’ racing heartbeat slows does Derek head into the bedroom, stripping off his own clothes as he goes. 

“So you _do_ know how to be a good boy.” 

God, he’ll never get tired of looking at Stiles. Hands clasped at the nape of that long neck, thighs splayed wide, every bit of Stiles is on display, cock already thickening against his thigh. 

“ _It’s a brick wall, Derek, no one will hear_. What am I going to do with you, hmmm, Stiles? First, I think we’d better make sure your hands don’t get ahead of themselves, like they did earlier, couldn’t even wait until we got home, could you?” 

He kneels behind Stiles, closing handcuffs from the bedside table around his wrists with a _snick_. Derek loves the way Stiles looks with his arms cuffed behind his back, his whole torso pulled into definition, the sharp wings of his shoulderblades.

Derek trails his fingers up and over Stiles’ shoulders, along his collarbone, and then shoves his thumb in between Stiles’ lips, forcing his mouth open to lay three fingers against Stiles’ tongue. He’s pressed all along Stiles’ back, runs his tongue along the places his fingers just touched. 

“This mouth of yours is beginning to be a real problem. I’m not going to gag you, though - you don’t deserve the extra help. You’re going to be quiet for me all on your own, like the good boy I know you can be.” 

Stiles swallows convulsively around Derek’s fingers. 

“Your mouth got us caught before I could even come today. Got yourself off like a little slut, didn’t you, but you couldn’t even wait for me. That wasn’t very nice of you. Do you deserve to be punished, Stiles?”

Derek’s hand, wet with Stiles’ own spit, moves up the shaft of his cock, thumb rubbing across the head, pressing a sharp nail into the slit. The only response he gets is a moan, shuddered out around clenched teeth and bitten lips. 

“Answer me, baby boy. Do you deserve to be punished?”

“Yes! Yes! I was - _oh, fuck, Daddy, please_ \- I was bad.” 

Derek’s free hand clenches in sweaty hair, yanking Stiles’ head back. He drags his mouth up the line of Stiles’ throat, sinks teeth into the hinge of his jaw until Stiles shudders. 

“What did you do wrong?” 

“I’m sorry, Daddy, I’m sorry.” 

“I bet you are. Now _answer me_. What did you do wrong?” 

He strokes Stiles’ cock again, faster. The sounds Derek’s palm makes are obscene, wet, echoed in the panting sobs of Stiles’ breath.

“I was selfish!”

“And?”

“And loud! Please, I’m so close, please, please-”

“You’re not going to come. Hold it for Daddy like a good boy, since you couldn’t earlier.” 

Stiles sobs, and words come spilling out after it. “Please say I can come, fuck, fuck, I’m trying, but -”

“Oh, no, not yet, baby boy,” Derek says, fingers a tight ring around the base of Stiles’ cock as it twitches and jerks in his hand. “But you did the right thing by telling me before you were naughty. I think for that you deserve a little bit of help.” He gives Stiles a few minutes to settle, smoothing a hand along his side, his hip, listening to his heartbeat even out. 

It picks back up when Derek moves off the bed and pulls a black silicone cock ring from the drawer. He stretches the ring out once, to test, before holding it up for Stiles’ inspection. 

“This should do the trick, don’t you think? I know you’re trying, baby, and you were so perfect just now, you did just what I told you to do, so I’m going to make it easier for you. You want to obey, don’t you?”

Stiles nods slowly, eyes fixed on the cock ring. 

Derek squeezes a puddle of lube into his palm and curls his fingers slowly around Stiles’ dick, spreading the mess everywhere, getting him good and wet so that the ring stretches and slides easily over his boy’s sweet little cock. It rides right at the base, tight up against Stiles’ balls. Derek can practically see his cock get fatter, heavier. 

“There, that’s better. Now... where were we?” He keeps slowly jacking Stiles, adds the twist at the head his boy likes. “Ah, yes - I was wondering how I’m supposed to take you out in public if you can’t be a good boy? Couldn’t even keep your hands out of your pants for a few hours.”

He’d looked so pretty, though, coming all over himself like that. Derek almost doesn’t blame the security guard for stealing an eyeful before escorting them from the building. 

Almost. 

Stiles is writhing now, a frantic, full-body movement that rolls them together in a filthy, tempting press of skin. 

“I think I’m going to take that sweet little ass of yours now, since I didn’t get to do it earlier. Whose fault is that, Stiles?”

“Mine, sorry, _please_ fuck me? Please!”

Derek laughs as he pushes Stiles onto his belly, face down and ass up, a perfectly usable toy for Derek’s pleasure. 

“You don’t get it yet, do you? I’m going to fuck you, baby. I’m going to have you as many ways as I can think of, for as long as I feel like it - but it’s not going to be about you. You’re going to stay exactly where I put you. You’re not going to speak, unless it’s to warn me that you’re about to come. But you’re not going to come, are you, baby boy?”

“No, Daddy, _Derek_ , I need to come, let me come, please, I said I was sorry, please Daddy -”

“You. Don’t. Get. To. Come.” Each word is punctuated with an equally sharp, heavy smack to Stiles’ ass, pale skin going rosy, the lines of Derek’s fingers starkly visible. Stiles rocks under the blows, Derek humming as he watches every muscle in Stiles’ body twitch. 

“Yes, yes, alright, I’m sorry, I don’t deserve to come, I know. I’ll be a good boy for you, Daddy, I promise.” 

Derek presses a kiss to tender flesh, feeling the heat under his lips, nipping at the welts to draw a gasp from Stiles’ throat. 

“You’d better. You _really_ won’t like your punishment if you break the rules this time.” 

Slowly, torturously slowly, he works at Stiles’ pink ass. Lube is everywhere, running between Stiles’ cheeks, dripping down over his balls. One finger slips in, just the tip, until he can crook his finger and tug tightly furled flesh open. It doesn’t take much before Stiles is moaning, head thrashing against the pillow. 

Let him. Derek wants him loose and gaping before he fucks that pretty little hole. 

Two fingers, stretching Stiles wide and wider, twisting, an inch at a time. He’s got the first finger of each hand gently, gently pulling Stiles open until his mouth slips in between them, tongue lapping at the rim in wet, sloppy kisses. Derek _loves_ this, loves the way it drives Stiles absolutely crazy, makes him fall to pieces. Usually Stiles is begging by now, shattered little pleas pressed into the cotton sheets; he must be biting his lip bloody to keep quiet. 

Stiles’ body clutches at Derek’s fingers as he pulls back.

“You’re being so good for me, baby. You take it so well. Gonna take my cock just like that, aren’t you? Such a sweet little boy for Daddy.” 

The heartbeat pounding in Derek’s ears trips and stutters at the praise. Stiles pushes his ass up even further, knees splaying out, the lines of his body a silent request for more. 

“Oh, you’re not getting my cock yet. You want it, though, don’t you? Want me to shove it into you, claim you, fill that greedy little hole of yours up with my come, is that what you want?” 

The air is thick with tension, hissed out with Stiles’ breath, dripping down his skin like sweat. The taste of it burns down Derek’s spine and settles in his belly. Maybe he should reconsider, roll them both over and watch Stiles fuck himself on Derek’s dick, make him come and come and _come_ all over himself, all over Derek -

A whimper startles Derek out of his fantasy, and he looks up to catch Stiles’ dazed, wide-eyed stare. He’s peering over his shoulder, panting as Derek ruts mindlessly against Stiles’ sweet, wet hole, cock slipping across skin sticky with lube. A twitch of his hips puts the head of his cock right there, dipping into that soft, open place, every instinct screaming at Derek to take, to have, to claim. 

_Wait_ , he tells himself. _Soon_. 

He lets his hips roll, but just the smallest bit, until only the head of his cock is stretching Stiles wide. It looks filthy, the length of his dick resting there, rocking in and out, wet-hot friction right where he needs it. 

“Fuck, Stiles, fuck, think I’m going to come just like this, all over your ass. Would you like that, baby, want me to make you filthy, I know you like it when everyone can smell me all over you, don’t you, cause you’re mine, my baby boy, get me off, baby, clench that pucker tight for me and I might let you come, now, come on, now, _now_ -”

Stiles feels perfect around him, taking every brutal thrust, but Derek wants to leave him messy and marked. Come splatters across hand-shaped bruises as Derek wrings his orgasm out in quick jerks, teeth tight against thin, pale skin. Stiles thrashes underneath him, balls drawing up tight where they’re pressed together.

“Look at you, so hot with my come on you, so lovely for Daddy, aren’t you? I’ll bet you need to come now, don’t you? Does that pretty cock of yours hurt, you want it so bad? Do you deserve to come, baby?”

All he gets is silence, Stiles too strung out to respond. 

“Answer me, Stiles,” voice whipcrack-loud in the quiet of their bedroom. 

“I don’t know - I - I _don’t_ , whatever you want, Daddy. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” Stiles says, in a broken, confused whisper. That voice, that way, is the first sign of Stiles falling into a different headspace. 

Derek’s belly flutters every time he hears it. 

“Alright, baby, I know you will. I know you want to be good for Daddy, but it’s hard sometimes, isn’t it?”

The words keep flowing as he unlocks the cuffs from Stiles’ wrists, checking the circulation, rubbing slow circles up Stiles’ arms. He tells Stiles how perfect he is, the way he tastes wearing Derek’s come, how much Derek loves him. So much more than Derek ever could have imagined, even when Stiles’ mouth won’t quit. Even when he leaves his shoes in the middle of the living room floor _again_. 

“Sit up, that’s it, that’s right,” he murmurs, coaxing Stiles to his knees. The boy goes eagerly, so pliant it makes Derek’s cock twitch, but he’s going to make Stiles work for it before he fucks him again. 

“Go get the dildo. The black one.” 

Stiles’ throat bobs as he swallows. There aren’t enough marks there, the skin still pale, and when Stiles comes back to the bed, dildo in hand, Derek pulls him down to suck a deep, red bruise next to his Adam’s apple. His teeth pull and nip until it has to hurt, the mark a bloody almost-purple, one of Stiles’ hands clenching the dildo, the other tight on Derek’s thigh. 

“I want to watch you fuck yourself with that,” Derek says. “You’re going to take it just like you’d take my cock. Show me how much you want me inside you.” 

Stiles flushes all the way down to his collarbone, but he spreads his legs wide and slips the dildo between them. 

“Wait. Suck it first.”

The dildo’s huge, with a thick, veiny shaft and a full, flared head. Stiles takes it an inch at a time, lips swollen and spit-soaked, fingers wrapped tight around his own dick to keep himself from coming too soon. 

“Work your tongue, I know you know how to make it good. Want to see you gagging on it.”

Hot eyes meet his over the shaft of the dildo, and Derek’s hand moves down his body of its own volition. His dick’s still wet with lube, palm wrapping around it in slow, long pulls that match the pace of Stiles’ mouth. 

“You can take more. Swallow it down, Stiles.” 

A drop of precome trickles down his knuckles as he watches Stiles’ lips and throat work, mouth stretched wide around black rubber. Stiles’ prick is hard against his belly, leaving a sticky smudge that Derek wants to lick. 

“God, that’s it, Stiles. You want it in your ass, don’t you, need something fucking you, you feel empty, baby, don’t you, dying for a cock inside you, go on, put that cock between your legs, ride it just like it was mine, baby, do it, do it for Daddy -” 

He watches the dildo disappear in increments, relishing the way Stiles hisses as the head breaches his ass. Stiles is blushing all the way down his chest now, sweat beading along his hairline, and Derek itches with the urge to slam the thing up into Stiles’ ass, to fuck him with the toy until he cries.

“Harder. _Harder_. Bounce on it like the little cockslut we both know you are. Feels good, doesn’t it, having a big, fat cock fill you up like that? You’re all wet for it, aren’t you?”

Derek rolls forward onto his belly, spine curling until he can drag his tongue up Stiles’ dick, tasting sweat and lube and skin, the bright tang of precome. He cups his hand around Stiles’ fingers where they clutch the dildo, setting a hard, fast rhythm, the same one that gets Stiles off every time. 

“You’re close, aren’t you, baby? I can hear your heart pounding, hear you panting for it. I can smell it all over you. You want to come for Daddy, don’t you? Want to come all over my face, want me to suck the come right out of your dick? The pack can smell it, you know, smell you all over me, they know when I’ve let you mark me, when you’ve been a good boy, a special boy for Daddy-”

Stiles’ hips jerk, smacking his cock against Derek’s cheek. 

“Like that, don’t you, baby? Do you like it enough to take my cock? Ride me good, show me you can get me off, and I’ll let you come however you want.” 

Derek pulls the dildo out, slow, a string of lube trailing out of Stiles’ stretched open hole. The second it’s gone, Stiles has him on his back, climbing into Derek’s lap and _impaling_ himself on Derek’s cock. 

“Christ, Stiles, just like that, just like that, sweetheart. There’s Daddy’s good boy.”

Stiles rides him just the way Derek likes, long and slow, clenching tight as he pulls almost all the way off before grinding back down. His cock bobs in the air, dripping onto Derek’s belly. 

“Fuck. _Fuck_.”

He’s going to come, fast, grabs Stiles by the hips and holds him still so he can thrust up into him, hard shoves of his hips that lift them both off the bed. Stiles is digging his fingers into Derek’s arms, body rolling to meet Derek’s, taking it just like he should. 

The orgasm whites out his brain, slams through and leaves him shaking. Bright, bloody half-moons, the exact shape of his claws, show starkly against the pale skin of Stiles’ pelvis. He brings his fingertips to his mouth, sucks the stains off of them. 

Stiles whimpers above him, still rocking down onto Derek’s softening cock. 

“What do you want, baby? How do you want to come for me?”

Brown eyes flicker across his face hesitantly.

“Go ahead, you can answer.” 

“Your face, Derek, please, let me, I’ve been so good.”

He slides down the bed in response, Stiles moving carefully until he’s kneeling across Derek’s chest. Derek can’t see much at this angle, nothing but the fat curve of Stiles’ cock and balls, but the sounds, gasps and moans and the wet movements of Stiles’ hand as he works himself... Fuck.

“Come on, Stiles, do it, come for me, come all over me. I’m yours, remember. You’ve been so good for me, I know you need to come, I want it. Give me your come, Stiles.”

He sucks Stiles’ tight little balls into his mouth and that’s it, Stiles is coming all over Derek’s hair, in his mouth, drops running down the length of Stiles’ cock. It goes on and on, until the smell, the taste of _Stiles_ is all Derek can sense, all he wants to sense. 

Stiles just falls apart, slumping limp and loose atop him, still trembling. 

“Stiles, sweetheart, I need you to move, okay? Can you do that, just for a minute?”

Clumsily, Stiles climbs off him, curling into a ball, shoving himself into Derek’s arms. His head butts into Derek’s shoulder.

“Shh, shh. I’ve got you. You were so good, baby, you did so well. You’re such a good boy. So perfect for me.” 

Derek cups Stiles’ chin, meeting sleepy, tear-puffy eyes.

“I’m proud of you, Stiles.”

It’s quiet after that, still and soft, only the streetlight filtering in through the curtains. Soon Derek will clean them both, work the cock ring off of Stiles, put a Band-aid over the scratches on his hips. Not now, though. Now he just curls closer, burying his face in Stiles’ sweaty, smelly hair. 

“Good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and hugs and a ridiculous excess of feels to my beloved betas, [jacyevans](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jacyevans) and [badwolfbadwolf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfbadwolf) who cuddled this thing (and me) until the good words came out. Also, of course, to my favorite first reader, [casualpahoehoe](http://casualpahoehoe.tumblr.com), who regularly convinces me not to pack it all in and move to the Bahamas.
> 
> Title from Panic! at the Disco's "But It's Better If You Do." 
> 
> Come find me [on tumblr](http://thatworldinverted.tumblr.com)! There are cookies. And porn.


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